by Patsey Gray
“Only animals!” Sis flared. Then she remembered Manuel. What was his share in all this?
“He knows about it,” Bud said, “but he don’t want no part in it. He told me he’d report it to Lee, only he don’t have the nerve. See, I know that Manuel’s an illegal alien. If the cops find this out, they’ll deport him. So—” Bud snickered, “Manuel don’t dare talk.”
But Manuel would have talked—to her, Sis thought, and guilt assailed her. She should have made time, given him a chance.
She hated the sound of Bud’s snuffling, and sight of his damp face. Moving away from him on the hay bale, she made herself ask, “What were you doing with those drugs in the storeroom?”
Hay crackled as Bud shifted. After a pause he answered, “Sometimes I use ’em on horses.”
“Horses! What for?”
Silence.
“Our horses? Why?”
More silence. Then, “Only one horse,” Bud mumbled.
Now with dreadful foreboding Sis forced out the words, “Which one?”
Bud’s reply was so low that she didn’t hear it. Loudly now, she repeated, “Which one?”
This time, she caught the answer.
A frightening thing happened to her. Out of control, her lips started to tremble. This had never occurred before because she’d never before felt such outrage. She turned from Bud so that she wouldn’t hit him, and plunged her clenched fists into the pockets of her robe.
Behind her, Bud said, “It don’t hurt him. Just the opposite, when he’s kinda sedated, he likes to jump. You’d of known that, bein’ on him at the shows where he went good, only you never knew why he went good.”
Sis was too stunned, too appalled, to answer. But when she could control herself she asked, “That’s why you always won your bets on him—because you’d either doped him or not, so you knew how he’d act?”
“Sure.” Bud sounded smug.
“You’re repulsive!” she burst out.
“Hey, wait a minute!” Hurt, was he? He deserved to be killed.
“All my work,” Sis raged, “my hopes for Gull, his improvement, our teaming together, and Lee’s plans—all—oh, I can’t take it!” Sudden tears gushed down her face, and she slapped them away.
The nightmare continued, and now Sis didn’t care if Lee and Bitsie turned up. She cared only about what Bud had done to Gull. “You’ve made him an addict!” she cried.
“Aw, knock it off. I’ve made him willing to jump and to win. Look at it that way. Can’t you see him sailin’ over those fences in the Hall? He could do it easy. He’s an athlete. But he won’t do it if he’s nervous or fighting. Give him a break.”
Bud took a breath and continued firmly. “You don’t understand how the stuff works. It gives a horse courage, like it steadies him. Then when you decrease it, he still behaves himself, because by now he’s forgot his old bad ways. What it does, it makes life easier for him.”
As Sis didn’t answer, he went on, “You’ll cash in too, betting as well as winning, if you’ll agree to—all right, all right, forget it.” He was backing away from her retort.
The scene took a new turn when he said, “If you get me kicked out, what’ll happen to Manuel? He’d be lost without me.”
It was true in a way, Sis thought. Bud wasn’t good for Manuel, yet without him Manuel might go all the way downhill fast.
As she hesitated, Bud pressed his advantage, telling her how he had already bet every cent he and Manuel could raise on Gull’s winning a class at the Hall. Manuel—bullied by Bud, Sis guessed—had sold his radio and his half share of a bicycle, which had taken him months to accumulate. They’d borrowed, and were paying interest on the loans. Both had been working nights, Bud with Ernie, Manuel for Mrs. McCauley.
“It’d wreck Manuel to lose everything,” Bud finished. “And he’d maybe think I been fooling him, because I just about promised Gull can win.”
“But what do you tell him, about your bets and so on?” Sis asked.
“Just that I know horses. And I know what your competition will be at the Hall. I been doin’ some sleuthing.”
“If you know horses, you should know better than to promise a horse can win.”
Gull could still win without drugs, Sis thought. But in the circumstances, she wasn’t certain. It would depend, she supposed, on how much he’d been getting, and—oh, what a ghastly mess. And the risk for Lee! As Gull’s owner, he’d be fined and set down if Gull were tested and found drugged. She closed her eyes and shook her head, trying to think.
Bud cut short her effort, his tone so reasonable that she had to listen. “Let me do it one more time. Just this once at the Hall, to help all of us. Then you can tell Lee, because I’ll be gone. You guys’ll take care of Manuel, or he can go with me; and Gull won’t be none the worse. Heck, he’s never had enough to miss it, not enough to hurt a baby.”
A small breeze stirred. Sis wondered what time it was, and how long she dared stay. Sound of a car on the ranch road was her answer. She jumped up with a smothered “They’re back!”
“They won’t see us,” Bud said, he too on his feet. “Come on, behind the hay.”
Motionless in the darker dark back of the haystack, Sis listened to Lee’s pickup drive in, stop, then follow Bitsie out. Disgust filled her for what she was doing—hiding, barefoot, not even dressed, alongside this creep who’d tricked her, Lee, and their horse. Now he was asking her to help “make life easier” for Gull at the Hall…. Well, she hadn’t said yes—or no.
Before she slept that night, she thought for a long time of the phrase about making life easier for Gull.
TEN
NEXT MORNING ON her way to Gull’s early workout, Sis knew that her answer to helping Bud must be no. She was ashamed that she’d considered anything else even for a minute. She must have been insane last night. Bud, and the shock, and the darkness, had unnerved her. But no more of that. She would not only tell him no, she’d also tell Lee the whole story. She owed Lee that. Then they’d be rid of Bud, and she’d feel honest again. Lee would know what was best for Manuel.
“But one good thing,” she said to Gull in his barn, speaking thoughtfully, “this business has made me realize how tempting it can be to cheat.” For the first time, she understood a little of what her dad had gone through. She wasn’t angry at him any more, only sorry that he’d pull a shabby deal.
“Hey, I forgot,” she told Gull, “this is Grandma Day. We’ll do our hill work with them. Ring work now. Jumps, Lee said, and he’ll coach us.”
Her spirits were so lifted by relief at her decision that they seemed to lift both her and Gull over the fences. Their approaches, timing, landings, their form, all were good. Gull made only one mistake, taking off too soon at the brush because she’d cued him too soon. It seemed he could do perfectly well without drugs.
When Lee was satisfied, he said, “Not bad.”
Sis graded herself B+. Her coach would have been pleased. He’d been too pleased by her photos to be of real help.
Walking out, she said to Lee, “I envy Bitsie. She’ll get to spend that whole long weekend at the Hall!”
“Working hard,” said Lee drily.
“Will she commute?”
“No, she’ll stay over there at the motel where most of the horse crowd stays.”
Sis wondered if she should talk to Lee privately now. It seemed only fair, for some reason, to tackle Bud first much as she hated him—but not yet.
During breakfast with Laurie, she was aware that she dreaded the talk with Bud. Maybe she should postpone it…. But shortly he discovered her, saddling for the grandmas. She was at one end of the tie-stall row, working toward Manuel at the other.
Between a horse’s shoulder and the partition, Bud sidled up to her. He asked, low, “You made up your mind about doing it at the Hall?”
She nodded. “I made up my mind that I won’t do it.”
His mouth tightened. His eyes slitted down at her. “So you won’t play it my way?”
“No.” There was no use explaining. Most likely he’d expected this answer anyway.
His glance traveled the length of the tie-stall row. Seeing only Manuel, he stepped forward, crowding Sis against the manger.
She looked down at his hand that had grabbed her wrist, and saw its coarse knuckles, and smelled his dirty breath. But she returned his stare, forcing herself with every nerve.
Finally, he flung down her hand and grunted, “You’ll be sorry, you and that nag. I’ll make sure of that.”
She couldn’t think of an answer. If only he’d go!
But, starting to back out, he threatened, “I’m tellin’ you, you better smarten up and change your mind.” His furtive eyes checked again that they were alone. Then he leaned forward and asked on a lower tone, “You wouldn’t want Gull to have an accident, would you?”
Sis felt the manger’s edge hard against her back. It was only after he’d gone that she realized her knees were trembling.
She left the rest of the saddling to Manuel, which must have puzzled him. Still shaky, she ran to Gull’s stall. He was all right—but she’d worry about him unless they were together. Even so, she’d worry until Lee knew about Bud and his threats. Yet Lee’s knowing might trigger Bud’s revenge. Whatever she did could be wrong.
Now the grandmas’ arrival dismayed her. There’d be no chance to talk with Lee until later. She had to saddle Gull.
Soon she was following the twittering group, who this time chose Redwood Trail for their outing. They said nice things to her that she didn’t deserve, for she was untidy and inattentive. It didn’t help that Lee was cool toward her. He knew she’d left half her work to Manuel. Gull clearly sensed her worry, for he acted subdued. No prancing on the redwood needles, but a solemn walk under the great trees. No shying at the creek, which now was low, and slid by quietly. The woods’ hush seemed to foreshadow disaster.
When they stopped to rest, it was in a redwood grove whose giants made midgets of humans and horses.
“Like a cathedral,” Mrs. Olsen said. “I feel we should whisper.” And another grandma added, “Let’s absorb the beauty and fragrance, to recall, girls.”
Lee rode a few lengths away to water his mare in a dark pool. At that, Sis jumped down and joined him, and blurted, “Can I talk to you a minute? I’ve got to!”
Her expression must have convinced him. “Go ahead, but keep it down,” he said with a glance at his charges.
While their two horses drank, Sis told of Bud’s drugging, of what he planned to do at the Hall, and how he’d said, “You wouldn’t want Gull to have an accident?” The action of three months took hardly three minutes to tell.
Lee’s only answer was to call out, “Ready, ladies?” With that, he swung onto his mare, and Sis had to scramble on Gull or be left.
The return trip was a bit fast for the grandmas. Several complained mildly, but Lee played deaf. Sis suspected they were disappointed when, at the barn, Manuel met them without a smile. Lee ordered her to help unsaddle the rent horses, then, on Gull, to teach a private lesson in his place. Nothing about Bud.
The tanbark dust made her head ache. Or maybe it was nerves. The ranch was too quiet. Something must be going on that she couldn’t see or hear. That hunch seemed right when Anita Pickett appeared and asked, “Where’s Bud?”
“Most likely with Lee,” Sis answered, picturing a stormy scene in Lee’s office.
After the lesson and through feeding time, quiet persisted. Only a few parents and youngsters wandered about. Nobody fed the horses in pasture, and they lined the fence, waiting with ears pricked and frequent pawing.
Sis hung around the deserted barn, hesitant to leave Gull. She was considering a visit to Laurie when Lee appeared.
“Come to my office,” he said. Outside the barn, he saw the horses waiting at the pasture fence and added, “We’ll feed ’em later.”
Lee’s office looked strange to Sis because of the people there—Laurie and Ernie, Manuel, Anita in tears, now Lee and herself, and a large man introduced as Sheriff McGraph.
The sheriff eyed her keenly as he said, “We’re trying to locate Bud.”
She looked from one face to another, all blank.
“Any idea where he could be?” he asked her.
“Why—no.”
“Think carefully. These folks don’t know, but it seems you were one of the last to see him, this morning.”
Sis turned to Manuel, who shrugged. “He says only adiós,” Manuel told her. His face was pale, his dark eyes large with fright. She remembered that he’d always feared the law. But evidently he and the others had answered questions satisfactorily, for they were excused.
The sheriff continued to question Sis alone, while evening darkened beyond the open door. When a car drove in, she recognized the sound of Jeff’s VW. Of course—they had a date. She’d forgotten.
Free at last, she found Jeff at Gull’s stall where he knew she’d turn up. He had news for her, having talked with Lee.
“Lee’s going to sleep next to Gull tonight, in the storeroom, just in case Bud takes a notion to prowl. Ernie called his boss and got time off to stay with Laurie. Manuel will get along by himself in the trailer, I guess. And you’re coming home with me.”
“But—”
“No buts. I’ll bring you back early tomorrow.”
Sis gave in, but suggested, “Let’s at least say good night to Manuel; he must be miserable.”
But Manuel appeared resigned, maybe even relieved. He’d borrowed Burper for company, and was looking through some of Sis’s old magazines. He said to her shyly, “Is good everybody knows about the drugs. Now I don’t have to tell, verdad?”
“Verdad,” Sis agreed.
Leaving Jeff with Manuel, she went to her cabin to pack an overnight bag. Evidently the sheriff had organized a search of the ranch, for she heard strange voices in odd directions, and saw lights, some high on the hills. It was as if monster dragonflies hovered here and there. Creepy. Her wild little neighbors were silent, maybe fearful too. Even Whisk had vanished.
When Jeff came for her, she was relieved to go, knowing Gull wouldn’t be alone.
She sat close to Jeff in the little car, glad to hear his voice and once his deep chuckle, to glimpse a flash of sun-bleached hair in the passing lights. They hadn’t seen each other alone much lately. Sis realized that she’d missed him, a lot. She wished that she could tell him so. But the more she wished it, the more awkward she felt.
Much later, in the Ashbys’ lovely guest room, she thought again of Gull, and some words of Jeff’s returned to haunt her. Between the linen sheets she shivered, remembering: “In case Bud takes a notion to prowl tonight.” Prowl, a horrible word…. It hinted at stealthy footsteps nearing in the dark, at breathing withheld, at a smell you couldn’t identify, vibrations you couldn’t explain….
“You’ve been reading too much,” she said to herself. “Go to sleep.”
But the curtains stirred at the windows, and sounds of the city intruded.
Next morning at daylight she tiptoed to the kitchen, looking for the telephone.
There she met Mrs. Ashby, also tiptoeing, and the two laughed. Tempting smells of bacon and toast floated about, but the view drew Sis to the window. In the sparkling light, San Francisco’s skyline was sharp across the bay, a sensational sight. The Hall wasn’t visible. Thought of it sobered her. Opening night, next Friday, was only six days away.
At the stove, Mrs. Ashby said, “Call Jeff, dear, will you? He’s the second door down the hall.”
First Sis telephoned the ranch. The phone rang unanswered in Lee’s office, so she called the Wagon. Ernie answered, complained at being wakened, and said everything was fine.
“How do you know?” Sis asked.
“I’d know if it wasn’t,” he said, and she had to be satisfied with that.
There was a delightful intimacy in breakfasting with the Ashbys in their sun-flooded kitchen, even though Jeff looked grumpy. He resembled
a schoolboy half awake, which made Sis feel mature.
“My son always wakes up in this stunned condition,” Mrs. Ashby told her with a smile.
“Better stunned than stoned,” Jeff mumbled. He watched suspiciously as Sis refilled his cup, and he asked, “You’re so old-fashioned that you’d wait on a man?”
“Only on a zombie,” she retorted. “And only so you’ll have strength to drive me back to the ranch.”
Half an hour later Lee joined them as they were carrying Sis’s belongings up to her cabin. He startled her with the words, “Don’t unpack.”
She waited for more.
It came just as tersely. “You’re leaving.”
Gosh, I’m fired, she thought, but still couldn’t speak.
It was Jeff who asked, “How come?”
Impatiently, Lee explained. “Bud was seen last night at Blanche’s, so we figure he’s too close for comfort. I’ve decided to move Gull to the Hall.”
“And me too? When? Now? I’m ready!” The words tumbled from Sis.
Lee gave her one of his tight smiles. He handed Jeff a padlock, saying, “Lock this cabin when she’s got her stuff out, whatever she’ll need, and give Laurie the key. I nailed the window closed.” To Sis he said, “You and Gull be ready in a couple of hours. Clean him good, but not a bath. Set out a fresh blanket and leg wraps, and see that his grooming box is all together.” Turned away, he paused to add, “Don’t forget anything, because you won’t be back till after the whole show. I’ll make it back and forth, but you’ll stay there and take care of Gull.”
“Maybe I’ll sleep with him—neat!” Sis breathed, at which Jeff snorted.
Twenty minutes later she was packed, the cabin safely secured, Jeff gone. In high gear she ran down with the key and a good-bye hug for Laurie.
To her surprise, she found Murph at work in Gull’s barn. He was taking Bud’s place, he said; he’d come before and after school. Sis hoped he’d move into the trailer with Manuel. But right now she had time only for Gull.
This being Sunday, children, parents, and other clients were arriving already. Word had spread that Sis and Gull were leaving for the Hall. Everyone wanted to help them get ready. The adults knew the reason for this sudden move; the kids apparently were too excited to wonder. Melissa summed up their feelings: “Sis Reynolds, you’re the luckiest Ms. in the whole United States.”
